


Blame it On the Alcohol

by beccadearie



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-24
Updated: 2012-04-24
Packaged: 2017-11-04 06:18:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/390718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beccadearie/pseuds/beccadearie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Originally crossposted.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Blame it On the Alcohol

**Author's Note:**

> Originally crossposted.

Merlin opened the door cautiously, mindful of the squeaky hinge. Poking his head out, he scowled at Arthur, who was leaning against the side of the house and smoking a fag.

“You’re going to get smoke in the curtains again. Mum got suspicious last time.” He closed the door behind him.

Arthur rolled his eyes and stubbed out his cigarette with the toe of his sneaker. “Did you get it?”

Merlin shot him a dark look and pulled the bottle of whiskey from behind his back. “I know you have a fake ID, Arthur Pendragon, don’t lie to me. And why am I the one stealing the liquor from my mother’s house? Your father has a liquor cabinet as big as a house!”

Arthur frowned and pulled at the collar of his jacket. “The wine cellar doesn’t count,” he grumbled. “And Father keeps a careful inventory of that stuff.” 

Merlin rolled his eyes. “Come on, prat,” he said and lead Arthur to the side of the house. When they got to the flower trellis (that was strangely lacking flowers) Merlin carefully toed off his shoes and stuffed his socks into his trainers. Arthur quickly followed suit. 

Now came the tricky part. Merlin shimmied halfway up the trellis and then held out a hand for the bottle. Arthur tracked him with his eyes, watching every foothold to make sure Merlin wasn’t going to tumble off the side of the house… again. 

After Merlin’s bum and pale bare feet disappeared over the roof of the house, Arthur followed after him, maybe just a bit less nimbly. 

Arthur was panting when he reached the top of the trellis and pulled himself onto the slightly sloping roof. Merlin was flat on his back, eyes closed, arms spread out wide to embrace the sky. The whiskey bottle sat next to him, untouched.

“Budge up,” Arthur said and nudged Merlin with a foot. Merlin slitted his eyes open at him but scoot over and made room for Arthur next to him. The part of the roof that they were on was kind of narrow.

Merlin sat up when Arthur cracked the seal on the liquor. “To your health,” Arthur toasted him gravely before taking a swig and promptly began coughing.

“Serves you right,” Merlin muttered and tugged the bottle from Arthur’s fingers. He took a swig of his own- but a smaller one- and immediately felt like his throat was on fire. He didn’t blame Arthur for coughing. “It’s not so bad,” he said hoarsely, eyes watering.

Arthur gave him a look and pulled the bottle towards him, taking another pull. “Gets better the more you go.” 

Merlin laid back down, not willing to repeat the experience. Besides, he was about as lightweight as they come. 

The night was beginning to close around them and Merlin glimpsed the first star peeking out as he lay there listening to Arthur getting more and more sloshed.

“Remind me why we did this again?” he asked dryly. Arthur hauled him up by the shoulder and pressed the bottle into his hand again.

“It’s fun,” Arthur insisted. Using his free hand, he wrapped Merlin’s fingers around his own and tilted the bottle up to his lips. Merlin obligingly took a sip. But just a small one. 

“It’s good for you,” Arthur urged, keeping the mouth of the bottle pressed against Merlin’s lips, until Merlin glared at him and swallowed a healthy amount. “Puts hair on your chest.”

Merlin pushed the bottle away, gasping. “I don’t need hair on my chest! Prat.”

Arthur chuckled and took another sip. Merlin felt the alcohol rushing to his brain, making his toes and cheeks feel rosy and his head pleasantly fuzzy.

“And this is your idea of fun?” Merlin leaned back down on one elbow. 

Arthur seemed to be contemplating the horizon for a long moment before carefully setting the bottle down on the rooftop and turning towards Merlin. 

“No,” he said quietly. And then he was climbing over Merlin, legs slotting in between his, fingers slipping through his hair, brushing across his cheek, “This is.” 

Merlin gasped against Arthur’s lip, his weight pressing into him heavily, insistently, claiming him with his lips and his fingertips, the whiskey going straight to his head, making everything fuzzy and golden-edged. Or maybe that was just Arthur, pressing into him, fingertips marking him, branding him with their light heat, searing into the side is face and cradled into the back of his hair.

Merlin was drowning, light-headed yet sure, ignoring the burn of his lungs as Arthur massaged his lips against his own, sucking at the bottom one, teasing just a little with his tongue. And then sucking a line of kisses down his jaw and into his neck as Merlin lay back and gasped, a drowning man craving oxygen, except the oxygen was his hands grasping at Arthur’s hips and feeling the bare skin under the hem of his t shirt beneath his fingertips.

It was Arthur pulling back, resting his chin on Merlin’s chest and quirking a smile at him. “You alright?” Arthur murmured, hand brushing the hollow of Merlin’s cheekbone. 

Merlin tried for his most impressive glare, but only hauled Arthur up by his t shirt to capture his lips in another kiss. 

Merlin pulled so hard at Arthur’s t shirt that it slid up all the way to Arthur’ arms before Merlin could finally tug him back down against him, teasing Arthur’s lips with with his tongue and scratching his fingernails lightly down Arthur’s back. Arthur shivered and his hips jerked unconsciously, making Merlin gasp and see stars. 

Arthur kissed the tip of his nose, lightly, distractedly, and Merlin worked a bare foot up the back of Arthur’s calf before using it as leverage to flip Arthur onto his back, a surprised groan bursting from his chest. Merlin pulled at his shirt again and Arthur willingly raised his arms so it could be peeled off, Merlin just being able to make out the details in the fading light. 

Dizzily, he remembered the edge of the roof directly to his left and rolled off of Arthur just enough so that he was pressed along his side, legs still tangled together, one hand tracing Arthur’s naked chest. 

“You’re kind of wonderful, you know,” Merlin said in a hushed voice, when he could find it. Arthur just stared up at him, still breathing hard, cupping his cheek, his eyes wide and dark. He pulled him down into another kiss, lips moving carefully against Merlin’s, searching, asking, before pulling back again.

“Should we finish the whiskey?” he asked in a hoarse voice. Merlin couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of him, and then they were laughing together in the darkness on his mother’s roof, the forgotten bottle of whiskey getting lonely as they found their own drug of choice.


End file.
